


When everything was still fantastic

by authorwithoutaquill



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Dreams vs. Reality, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Introspection, Pete's World, Post-Episode AU: s02e13 Doomsday, Pre-Episode: s04e13 Journey's End
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-05-07 01:06:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5437772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/authorwithoutaquill/pseuds/authorwithoutaquill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The nights were the worst. That's when the dreams came. The ones that left her broken and wishing for the impossible. But this time they were different. She saw something in them she never expected to. Not here. Not now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When everything was still fantastic

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the Ficlet Friday prompt Christmas Hurt/Comfort and Getting warm by the fire on Timepetalsprompts. I used the prompts fairly loosely. I sincerly apologize for everything that takes place below. 
> 
>  
> 
> **This is a little insight into Rose's life after Bad Wolf Bay and before the events of Journey's End. It takes place in Pete's World sometime during S3. It's extremely depressing and consists of a large amount of introspection. And probably no one should read it.**

She was sitting by the fire, body aching all over, mind numb from the thoughts that swirled around in her brain. She couldn’t catch them, couldn’t make them quiet. Everything was just too damn painful. She was staring at the flames, trying to force some warmth into her cold fingers, trying to catch that spark of life she so desperately needed.

“Do you need anything?” Jackie’s voice called to her from the doorway - gentle and quiet, as it always was since Bad Wolf Bay.

Five months ago, that was. Five months ago today. Rose didn’t know how she knew - she didn’t specifically count the days - but she felt it deep in her bones. Five months. Five fruitless months. She tried hard to stay brave, to not give up, to have hope, to start a new life.

And for the most part she succeeded. During the days she was able to smile, even to laugh sometimes, when she looked at her dad and mum, together, happy. Mickey became the best friend he used to be once more and their life together looked perfect from the outside.

But the evenings were hard. The evenings were quiet and they were lonely. It was when the impossible moods struck Rose - the sadness, the numbness, the hopelessness. Pete and Jackie tried to snap her out of it at first, with Mickey staying away from the very beginning, perhaps knowing just what she was going through. Her parents learnt to leave her alone in the evenings quickly too.

She didn’t cry. She just sat. The pain in her chest was too great for crying. It was too big to get it out by sobbing or yelling or screeching. It pushed on her heart and lungs and she could do nothing but let it wash over her, waiting for the morning when the sun would chase away the bad dreams and the dark shadows.

“No. No thanks, mum. I’m fine.”

She wasn’t and they both knew it. After a moment she heard Jackie’s shuffling steps retreat - her feet were swelling and she told her more than once she wished the baby would just come already. Rose wanted to help, she really did. But she couldn’t muster the energy in times like these.

She laid her head down on the couch and stared unblinking into the fire. She was exhausted, but didn’t want to sleep. The dreams would come when she slept and she hated the dreams. It was the same every night.

It started so well. The Doctor and her lying in the grass in New New York. The Doctor in all his glory - pinstriped suit, long brown coat, dark brown locks that tickled her face when they hugged, child-like smile and sparkling eyes. They’d talk and smile and walk and hug… And then suddenly they would be at Torchwood. The glass would crack and shatter, Mickey would come and shout her name, the Doctor would send her away, but she’d go back. And the Daleks… oh the Daleks… And the Cybermen… They were coming and they had to do it, open the breach and end it all. But she got sucked in, her grip wasn’t strong enough and she got pulled in, and then she got caught…

A deep, shuddering breath as she tried to fight the tears that weren’t coming. Sometimes she wished she wouldn’t have been caught. In the evenings, mostly. She wished very much. But then the mornings came and it all changed for a while and she could go on and there was her dad and her mum and good old Mickey…

She put her head back down and squeezed her eyes shut. Maybe it wouldn’t come this time.

 

She is running, high heels and a long dress and hair falling all around her face from whatever ridiculous up-do she had at the moment. There’s a strange feeling, like she’s been here before - a long, long time ago - but she doesn’t have time to consider. She’s running on metal grating, heels clicking, a voice calling her name, but she doesn’t care, she just has to get the dress off, have a long, warm bath and calm her nerves a bit.

What happened to unsettle her so? She shakes her head as she rounds a corner. There it is - the door to her bedroom, inside it her bed and her clothes she’s thrown off when getting ready. She’s on the Tardis.

The realization hits hard and is almost enough to wake her, but then her eyes fall on the bathtub and she’s locking the door behind her, tearing down her dress, opening the faucets, letting water cascade down into the tub, tearing her hair free of its constraints.

“Rose!”

“I need some time, Doctor!” she calls out without thinking and her voice is shaking, but strong. “I’m fine. Honestly. I’m not hurt or anything, I just need a minute here!”

After a moment of silence she hears a murmured “okay”, then heavy boots thumping away on the grating. She sighs and stares at herself in the mirror. She is unhurt - no blemish, no scar, no nothing to show for her anxious state.

She starts to smile at herself - silly Rose, working yourself into a fit over little nothings - when a thought hits her and she freezes. Her muscles go into spasm and she doubles over. She gasps and almost runs out before realizing she’s naked.

“But… that… that was… No. It can’t be!” She’s talking to herself and she knows her brain is going bonkers. She knows that voice, knows the sound of the boots, knows the sound of her name on those lips… But she didn’t expect to see him. Not now. Not like this.

Tears come into her eyes and she sinks into the warm water. She’s shaking, trembling all over, gulping in air, knowing now with a brutal certainty that she’s in a dream, knowing full well she should make herself wake up, but she can’t. She missed him. The Doctor. Her Doctor. The one who took her hand in the beginning and never let go until the end…

Surely, a peak wouldn’t hurt. Not more than everything else already did anyway.

She gets out of the tub, carefully towelling herself dry and taking great care with her choice of clothes. At first she wants to pick out something extravagant and decidedly _not_ earthly. But then she thinks with a wry smile that the Doctor would know immediately that something was wrong. So she settles for a light blue knee-length dress instead. It’s flowy, but hugs her figure nicely - doesn’t show too much, but makes her feel special. Taking a deep breath, she heads towards the console room.

And there he is, leaning over one of the screens, arms spread out, fingers pushing buttons relentlessly, the usual scowl of concentration in its place, long legs supporting his weight as they stretch out towards the chairs behind him. The breath is knocked out of her for a moment and the tears come again, unbidden. God, she missed him! Crystal blue eyes, hawk-like nose, sensuous lips, sharp jawline, short-cropped dark hair - even his overlarge ears. But most of all his voice.

She smiles fondly and steps into the room, the Doctor’s head whipping up as soon as her feet hit the grating. He looks her over and after a slight pause - no doubt caused by her unusually feminine attire - asks in a quiet voice, “Are you alright?”

A shiver runs through her body at the sound of his voice and all she wants is to break down, to run into his arms and tell him she’ll miss him. She’ll miss him more than she can say, more than he can ever know. She doesn’t.

“Yeah, I’m alright. A bit shaken, is all.”

The Doctor nods and walks over to her, gazing down into her eyes, taking her hands gently in his, wrapping slender fingers around her wrists and caressing softly. She closes her eyes and lets the tears fall. He’s around her before any time could pass between them - arms on her shoulder, head on her head, nose in her hair, pulling her flush against his chest, rocking gently back and forth.

She wants to tell him…

Tell him something. But all she can do is cry quietly and wish the dream would never end. He whispers soothing words to her, clearly thinking she’s so upset because of their adventure with the Gelth, trying to explain, to apologize, to calm her. She cries harder and buries her face in the crook of his neck. The Doctor strokes his back and stays quiet for a while, judging that she needs to let it all out before she can try and calm down.

“Funny way to spend your first Christmas on the Tardis,” he says after a long silence.

Rose sniffles and looks at the console behind the Doctor’s back.

“Yeah.”

She lets out a shaky laugh and hugs him tightly, squeezing him until she can feel the breath whooshing out of him. She can tell he’s grinning and she wants to see it more than she ever wanted anything in her life.

She looks up and gives the Doctor her brightest, most brilliant tongue-between-teeth smile, gazing into his blue eyes and trying to memorize them. He holds her gaze for barely a moment, eyes sparkling with warmth and happiness. Then he turns and announces in a cheerful voice, “Alright. Up and away!”

He flicks a switch and walks around the console.

“Where to? Oh, I know! I’m going to take you to a place that starts with B and ends with A. A fantastic place. Just a hint,” he looks up at her, hands already working overtime with buttons and levers, eyes glinting in that mischievous, joyous way that makes him look like a little boy on Christmas morning and she’s falling into his gaze, getting lost in him, “look out for the dogs.”

He flicks the final switch and she feels herself being pulled away. The Doctor’s getting further and further away from her and she tries to reach out, demand to be taken back, tries to catch his eyes, but he’s looking down and she’s being brought back, and oh why does it have to end like this?

 

She felt hands running up and down her back, voices trying to soothe her, calling her name, faces around her asking questions, but she couldn’t hear, couldn’t look, couldn’t move. Sobs were pouring out of her chest like a relentless river heaving over its banks, tears streamed down her cheeks, her neck, going all the way down to her chest. Her whole frame was shaking, tremors, earthquakes rocking her body and she couldn’t breathe and her heart was being torn out and nothing could help or ease the pain. It was is finally coming out and she could only hope that it was leaving, letting go of her body, tears cascading for good and that it would end.

She mourned while the sadness tore her apart - mourned for the loss of her best friend, for the thin man with the great hair, for the soul mate with the gentle voice and strong hands, for the lonely god in his blue box - but most of all she mourned the loss of the one she couldn’t get over properly. The Doctor - her first Doctor, the one she fell in love with, the one who was replaced by a new man who took her on new adventures and the new new excitement pushed the pain down into hiding. It came out with full force now and her last wish in the throes of pain was to see those blue eyes once more. Just one more time. Before everything must end and she must move on.

But she knew she wouldn’t. Deep down, she knew he regenerated, he was gone and he was never going to come back. And it broke her heart - shattered it into a million irreparable pieces as her sobs became louder. Nothing’s ever going to be fantastic again. And Rose Tyler felt that was enough reason to cry. To shout. To tear herself apart.

Maybe the tears would wash it all away. Maybe, sometime in the very distant future she would be able to look back and remember those eyes with a smile on her face and no tremor in her heart.

One day.

But for today, she cried.

She cried like there were no more tomorrows - and a little piece of her hoped there weren’t. A larger piece supplied that it’s because all she wanted was yesterday. When everything - oh, but everything in the world - was still fantastic.

She tried hard to conjure up those blue eyes, to see them one last time, even if only with her own closed.

She couldn’t remember.


End file.
